His Texas Wildflower (6 page)

He peered toward the front of the building where plate-glass windows looked out over the graveled parking lot. Was she driving Gertie's old truck? He couldn't imagine such a thing. But perhaps there had always been another side of this woman and he'd not yet had a chance to see it.

His mind racing, he said, “Uh—that's good. Is it running okay?”

She nodded proudly. “Great. I took it by a mechanic's shop and had it checked out. The only thing it needed was new tires so I had those put on.”

“Sounds like you've been busy.”

She smiled again and as he looked at her, he realized the expression on her face was genuine. The fact made him happy. Very happy.

“I've made a start.”

He glanced at the red plastic shopping basket dangling from her hand. “You needed something from the feed store?”

“A few things for the cats and dog. Flea collars, wormers, things like that. They're probably not going to be too happy about it all, but I want them to be cared for properly.”

“So you didn't give them up to a pet adoption agency?”

Her cheeks turned pink and her gaze drifted away from him as though she was embarrassed she'd ever mentioned doing such a thing. Jake was truly baffled by this turn of events.

“No. I changed my mind about all that.” She directed
her gaze back to his. “That day of the funeral was—well, I was very upset and said some things before I had a chance to think them through.”

And done some things before she'd thought them through, Jake decided. Like bury her face against his chest and grip his shoulders like she never wanted to let him go. Now she was probably embarrassed about that, too.

But she didn't appear to be uncomfortable with him holding her hand. In fact, she wasn't making any sort of effort to draw it away from him. The idea encouraged him.

“We all do that from time to time,” he told her.

She let out a faint sigh and then a tentative smile curved the corners of her lips. Jake couldn't tear his eyes away from her face or even consider dropping her soft little fingers.

“I'm glad I ran into you like this,” she said. “I've been wondering if you might do me a favor. That is—if you have the time and happen to be going by my place.”

My place
. So she was calling it
her
place now. He couldn't believe how such a little thing like that could make him feel so good. And he wondered if he was coming down with some sort of sickness that was throwing his thinking off-kilter. He'd always been drawn to women. Down through the years he'd probably had more girlfriends than Quint had cattle, but he'd never had one that made him feel like happy sunshine was pouring through him and painting a goofy grin on his face.

“I'd be glad to help if I can,” he told her.

She said, “The horse has been coming up and hanging around the barn. I found some feed for it stacked away in a storage room, but I wasn't sure how much to give it. The cats and dog I can deal with, but I know
nothing about horses. And I remembered that you do. If you would be kind enough to look it over and make sure everything is okay. Maybe show me the correct amount to feed it? I'd be very grateful.”

God was definitely smiling down on him today, Jake thought. For the past week, he'd struggled to get this woman off his mind. He'd tried to think of any reasonable excuse to drive over to Gertie's place and see if she was there. But he'd figured if she was still in New Mexico, she'd be staying in a hotel in Ruidoso and hardly likely to be around the old homestead. And then, too, he'd tried to convince himself that she was off-limits, a woman who could never fit into his simple life, even for a short while.

Now here she was inviting him to her place as though it was as natural as eating apple pie. He couldn't believe his good fortune and it was all he could do to keep from shouting with glee.

“Sure,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I was thinking about driving out to Apache Wells this evening, anyway. Would that be soon enough?”

She smiled. “That would be great,” she said, then glanced around his shoulder. “You were looking at horseshoes when I first spotted you. I don't want to keep you from your business.”

She extricated her hand from his and Jake felt ridiculously bereft. “It's nothing that pressing.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be over at the track—Ruidoso Downs—in an hour or so to shoe some racehorses for a trainer that I'm friends with.”

“Oh. Is that something you do often?” she asked curiously.

“Occasionally. There are some folks I just can't say no to.”

Like you, he thought.

“Well, I should let you go, then.”

Before she could turn to leave, he reached out and caught her by the hand. She looked at him, her brows arched in question.

Jake was amazed to feel warm color creep up his throat and onto his face. Hell's bells, women didn't make him blush. Nothing did. So why was he doing it now?

“I was wondering if you'd like to go have a cup of coffee?” he invited. “That is, if you have the time.”

“Do you?”

He grinned. “It doesn't take me ten minutes to get to the track. I have plenty of time.”

“In that case, I'd love to,” she replied. “Just let me pay for my purchases and I'll be ready.”

They both took care of their business in the feed store, then walked out to the parking lot together. Jake was about to suggest that she ride with him to the Blue Mesa, but before he could get the words out of his mouth, he noticed Gertie's dog was sitting in the cab of the old Ford.

Surprised, he asked the obvious. “You brought the dog to town with you?”

“Yes. I discovered that Beau loves to ride in the truck. And I enjoy his company. He'll be fine while we have coffee,” she added. “I'll leave the windows rolled down and there's a nice breeze. He'll probably curl up on the seat and go to sleep.”

Wonder of wonders, Jake thought. Was this the same fashionista who'd walked across the barnyard in a pair of high heels? No matter. She was here with him now and he was going to enjoy every second of her company.

“Okay,” he told her. “Then follow me. The café is only a few blocks down the street.”

Since it was midmorning, the crowd had mostly dispersed from the little café and they both found parking slots directly in front of the entrance.

Jake suggested they sit at an outside table. That way she could keep an eye on Beau. As they climbed onto the wooden deck filled with small round tables, she looked around with obvious pleasure.

“How nice of you to bring me here, Jake. This is so quaint and lovely,” she exclaimed. “Can we take any table we like?”

“Sure. As long as it isn't already occupied.”

Since there was only one other couple making use of the outside seating, Rebecca chose a table at the far corner, where a few feet below them a small brook trickled through tall pines and blue spruce trees.

A waitress appeared almost instantly after they were seated and Jake didn't waste time ordering coffee and a piece of chocolate pie.

“You're having pie, too?” Rebecca asked with a shocked tone that implied eating such a thing in the middle of the morning was absolutely sinful.

Jake chuckled. “I have a lot of work ahead of me today. Besides, the Blue Mesa makes the best pie in town. Try some. It won't put any pounds on you,” he added with a wink, then glanced up at the redheaded waitress. “Will it, Loretta?”

The waitress laughed and Rebecca could tell by the light in the young woman's eyes that she knew Jake well and found him more than attractive. Probably one of many, she thought, then wondered why the idea annoyed her.

“Not at all,” the waitress answered. “I eat it all the time and I don't get any complaints.”

Rebecca deliberately avoided giving the waitress's
curvy figure an inspective glance. “Okay,” she said to Jake, “you've talked me into it. I'll have a piece of peach.” Glancing up at Loretta, she added, “If you have peach.”

The woman's smile was faintly suggestive. “We have every flavor a person would want. Just ask Jake. He's tried them all.”

Rebecca assured the waitress that she'd be satisfied with the peach and the redhead quickly swished away to fill their orders.

“Don't mind Loretta,” Jake said. “She's a big flirt, but she doesn't mean any harm.”

He probably didn't mean any harm either, Rebecca thought. But she figured he'd broken plenty of hearts with that dimpled grin and amber-brown eyes. Was she trying to be the next woman on his roster?

No. She simply liked him. Liked being around him. That didn't mean she wanted anything serious to develop between them. In fact, where women were concerned, she doubted the word
serious
had ever been in Jake Rollins's vocabulary.

“So how has it been staying out at Gertie's—uh, your place?” he asked after a moment.

She leaned back in her chair and wished she didn't feel so self-conscious about her bare face and messy hair. But for the past few days she'd felt like a child again, free to be herself. When she'd driven into town this morning, the last person she'd expected to see was Jake.

“It's been different to say the least. I'm still not used to the lack of an air conditioner. Or the idea that I can't drive a couple of blocks to a convenience store whenever I need something. But I like the quietness. Last night
while I was sitting on the porch I heard a pack of coyotes howling in the distance. It was an eerie sound.”

“Guess a city girl like you never heard anything like that.”

“No. Actually—” The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the rest of Rebecca's words and she turned her head to see Loretta arriving with their orders.

Once the waitress had served them and ambled away, Jake prompted Rebecca to finish what she'd been about to say.

“It was nothing important,” she told him as she spread a napkin across her lap. “I was only going to say that since I've come out here to New Mexico I've been learning about a lot of things. Mainly about myself.”

His expression was gentle on her face as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. “Are you liking what you're learning?”

She grimaced. “No. But I'm trying to change what I don't like.”

He didn't ask what she meant by that remark and Rebecca was relieved. She didn't want to admit to this man that it had taken the death of her aunt to open her eyes about her own life.

As she cut into the peach pastry, he leaned back in his chair and studied her with open curiosity. “This probably isn't any of my business, Rebecca, but are you planning on staying here in Lincoln County for an extended length of time?”

A faint frown creased her forehead. For the past week, his question was the same one that had gone round and round in her head. Was she going to stay for long? At the moment everything about being in this new place felt right and wonderful. But was that only because she was away from her demanding job? Away from the rift
between her and her mother? Or was the contentment she'd been feeling these past few days trying to tell her that she'd finally discovered where she was truly meant to be?

“Maybe,” she answered slowly. “It depends. On a lot of things.”

He sipped his coffee, then thoughtfully reached for his fork. “Well, I suppose there's a man back in Houston who won't take kindly to you staying out here for very long.”

She looked at him with faint surprise. “Not hardly. I don't have a boyfriend. And even if I did, I wouldn't allow him to tell me what to do. Unless I was madly in love with him.”

He arched a brow at her. “That would make the difference?”

“Of course. Love always makes the difference. Doesn't it?”

One corner of his mouth curved upward as he reached across the table and closed his hand around hers. “You're asking that question to the wrong man, Rebecca.”

He was telling her that love was not an important commodity on his list of needs. The reality should have put her off, should have made the warmth of his hand insignificant, the race of her heart slow to a disappointed crawl. But it didn't.

Like the rich pastry in front of her, she understood Jake Rollins wasn't necessarily good for her. But he was too tempting to resist.

“Y
ou're going where?”

Amusement slanted Jake's lips. Even over the cell phone, he could hear the dismay in Quint's voice.

“To Gertie's place. Or I guess I should be calling it Rebecca's place. Since it belongs to her now.”

As Jake motored his truck down the narrow, two-lane highway he could have counted at least twenty-five fence posts before Quint eventually replied and even then Jake figured the other man was rolling his eyes.

“I always did think you'd make a good detective, Jake. Maura's brother, Brady, could probably find you a good job in the sheriff's department if you wanted it. You're better at pulling information from people than a dentist pulls teeth.”

Jake chuckled. “I can't help it. It just falls in my lap.”

Quint's groan could be heard over the telephone
connection. “Oh, sure. You've probably been harassing the lady all week. How many times have you called her? No. Better than that, how did you get her phone number?”

“Quint, I've not called her once. I don't even have her number.”

“Really? How did you miss that piece of information? You seemed to know other, more personal things about the woman.”

“Look, I just happened to run into her at the feed store. She asked for my help and I couldn't refuse her. Could I?”

“You? Refusing a woman? That might have actually killed you.”

Jake frowned. Normally Quint's sarcasm would have made him laugh, but for some reason this evening he wasn't finding it amusing. More like downright annoying.

“You're being a real jerk about this, Quint. Especially when I was planning on driving on to Apache Wells to check on Abe—after I finish meeting with Rebecca.”

Quint sighed. “I'm trying not to be. But you took me by surprise, that's all.”

“Why? What's so surprising about me seeing Rebecca Hardaway? She's gorgeous and nice and I happened to like a woman's company.”

“No bull,” Quint said with a wry snort, then added, “If you want the truth, I figured Gertie's niece would have already left here by now. Along with that, she's not your type.”

Jake's jaw unconsciously tightened. “You mean she's not a barfly?”

“I didn't say that,” Quint countered. “You did.”

“You meant it,” Jake shot back at him.

“All right,” Quint conceded with a dose of frustration. “You'd be the first to admit that you don't go around seducing schoolmarms.”

“Rebecca is hardly a schoolmarm.”

“No. But she seems like a nice, decent woman. And after five minutes of conversation, I'm not sure you'll know how to treat her.”

Even though Quint was his childhood friend and the two of them always spoke frankly to each other, Jake was struck by his comment. It was true that Jake had always directed his likes toward “experienced” women. But he knew when and how to be a gentleman. He resented Quint implying otherwise.

“I'm not a heathen, Quint. Besides, she wants me to look over her horse. Not her.”

“Poor thing. Someone should have told her you're an expert at both,” Quint said.

“You're really on a roll this evening, Quint.”

Quint paused, then said, “I don't mean to get on your case, Jake. I'm just thinking about you. From what I saw of Rebecca Hardaway, she's the type of woman who—well, who could hurt a man without even trying.”

Jake let out a wry snort. “What are you talking about? She's a fragile little flower who couldn't hurt anything or anyone.”

Quint didn't say anything to that. Instead he abruptly changed the subject. Jake figured his friend had decided he was wasting his time giving him advice about the opposite sex.

“So what did you decide about buying the alfalfa from the producer in Clovis?” Quint asked. “I thought it was a fair price. And they always have good, clean hay.”

“I haven't decided yet,” Jake told him.

“What are you waiting on? Cold weather? The price to go up?”

“I was hoping the price would fall a bit,” Jake admitted. “If it doesn't, I might be better off sticking to creep feed. I want to do more figuring before I decide what feed program to plan for this coming winter.”

“I can understand that. I just wouldn't wait too long, though. Otherwise, you might get caught with your pants down.”

Jake realized that Quint's advice was well-meaning. He even appreciated his friend's guidance, but it did little to bolster Jake's self-confidence. 'Course, Quint didn't have any idea that his longtime friend lacked in that department. At one time, before Jake had purchased the Rafter R, Quint might have believed he needed a big dose of ambition, but never self-confidence. That was something that Jake had kept carefully hidden from his friend, his mother, anyone who was close to him. He didn't want them to know that he often lay awake at night wondering if he was on the right path, if the business decisions he made would be the right ones and hopefully keep the ranch out of the red.

“I'll make my mind up about the alfalfa in the next few days,” he told Quint, then spotting the turnoff to Rebecca's place in the far distance, he added, “I'm almost here. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

He started to snap the phone shut when Quint's voice stopped him.

“Jake—all that stuff I said earlier about you and Ms. Hardaway, I didn't mean to sound insulting.”

“I never thought you did.”

Quint sighed. “I just worry about you getting involved with a woman here on a temporary basis. I don't want to think of my best buddy moving to Texas and away from
me. And I sure don't want to think about you getting that hard heart of yours cracked open.”

A surprised frown crinkled Jake's features. “Oh, hell, Quint, there's not a woman on this earth that would make me leave New Mexico. And there sure isn't a woman who can break my heart.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

Jake grinned as he wheeled his truck into Rebecca's graveled drive and told his friend goodbye. But as he slipped the phone into his jeans pocket and climbed down from the truck, he wondered why Quint had made such a fuss about him seeing Rebecca in the first place. The other man had never voiced an opinion one way or the other over Jake's female conquests, he didn't see why he should start now.

Shoving that thought away, he started toward the house.

 

Rebecca had been down at the barn, locking the horse up in the dry lot, when she'd caught sight of Jake's white truck pulling into the drive. Now, as she hurried through the backyard, she called his name.

“Jake! I'm back here.”

He spotted her immediately and quickly changed directions.

She stood where she was, taking in his tall, muscular stride until he reached her side. This evening he'd changed his denim shirt to a teal plaid accented with flapped pockets and a long row of pearl snaps down each cuff. He looked very Western and extremely sexy and as he smiled at her, she could feel her heart reacting like a runaway drum.

“I was going to the house,” he told her. “I thought I'd find you there.”

It was impossible for her to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. Though she didn't understand completely why, just seeing him made her happy.

“I've been down at the barn, shutting the horse in the corral so it wouldn't leave before you got here,” she explained. “Would you like to go have a look at her now?”

“Sure. We're already halfway there anyway,” he reasoned.

With Beau on one side and Jake on the other, she led the way to the barn. As they moved forward, she noticed he was taking in the heaps of neatly piled junk she'd gathered from all corners of the yard.

“I've been trying to clean up the clutter,” she explained. “Gertrude must not have believed in getting rid of anything. Even after it was broken. I've never seen so many old tires and rusted buckets.”

“I'm surprised at how much better the place is beginning to look. And while we're on the subject, I could haul this stuff away for you,” he offered. “That is, if you don't already have someone to do it.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “It's nice of you to offer, Jake, but Abe has already offered to send some of his hands to come pick it up for me.”

“You've talked to Abe?” he asked with surprise.

She nodded. “This afternoon after I got back from Ruidoso I drove down for a little visit. I wanted to let him know in person how much I appreciated his kindness the day of Gertrude's funeral. He's such an easy man to talk to. If I tried, I couldn't have picked a better neighbor.”

He chuckled. “If Abe wasn't eighty-five I'd be jealous.”

Jealous of her with another man? Even though the
idea was ridiculous, it thrilled her to imagine this man getting possessive ideas about her. But no one had to tell her he was teasing. This morning while they'd drunk coffee at the Blue Mesa, he'd confessed to her that he'd never been in love or intended to be. And she'd spent the rest of the day wondering why.

Trying to keep a blush from stinging her cheeks with pink color, she purposely turned the conversation in a different direction. “Did you get your work done at the racetrack?”

“Finished up about an hour ago. I'm still trying to get the kinks out of my back.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you with Starr. You should have told me to call a vet.”

“Starr? Is that what Gertrude called the horse? Or did you find registered papers?”

“If Starr has papers, I've not found them. But then I haven't begun to sift through all the drawers and cabinets filled with Gertrude's papers and things.” She glanced away from him as she realized there was nothing for her to do but answer honestly. “You see, up until the morning of her funeral, I had no idea my aunt had any sort of pets.” Trying to smile, she directed her gaze back to him. “So I've given them all names of my own. They might not like what I've christened them, but it's better than calling them dog, cat or horse.”

“Well, looking over Starr is hardly a problem for me,” he assured her, then added with a wink. “And moving around helps the kinks in my back.”

At the barn, they walked to the small fenced lot connected to the left side of the building. Inside the enclosure, the gray dappled mare that Rebecca had named Starr ambled over to them. Beau flopped down in a nearby shade, content to simply watch.

While Jake sized up the animal's overall appearance, Rebecca decided it best to keep her questions to herself until he had a chance to voice his opinion.

Finally, he said, “From this side of the fence, she looks like she's in reasonably good shape.”

“Do you have any idea how old she is? Or what sort of horse she is?”

“With a closer look I might be able to give you a good guess about her age. Do you have a halter or bridle that I could put on her?” he asked.

“Yes. Just a moment and I'll get it,” she told him.

When she returned with a rope halter, she found Jake already inside the corral and his hands on the horse. Rebecca scrambled over the fence to join him and he took the simple piece of tack from her and slipped it on the mare's head.

Dismayed at how easy he'd done the task, she groaned with frustration. “I tried putting that thing on her several different times yesterday. But each time she kept lifting her head higher and higher.”

Chuckling, Jake glanced at her. “Don't let her beat you at that game. Before you try to slip it on her nose, put your arm behind the back of her head. That tells the mare to keep her head down to your level.”

“Oh. Well, I did warn you that I know very little about horses.”

He cast her an appreciative glance. “You knew enough to see that this one was a mare.”

The color on her cheeks deepened. “Thank you for giving me that much credit.”

His hand stroked down the mare's neck and then his fingers began to comb through Starr's long, black mane. For a man with big hands, Rebecca couldn't help but notice how gently he touched the mare.

“You're welcome,” he said. “But I can't figure why you named her Starr. She doesn't have a star in her forehead.”

She shot him a hopeless look. “Does everything have to be so literal with a cowboy? I wanted to name her Starr because she is one—to me. Isn't that a good enough reason?”

“Best reason of all,” he answered, then with a soft laugh, motioned for her to come closer.

Since she was already standing only a couple of steps away, she could hardly get much closer without touching him, she thought. Confused by his gesture, she took a cautious step toward him and Starr, then paused.

“Come on over here,” he coaxed, while pointing to the spot directly in front of him. “Neither one of us is going to bite you. I want to give you a lesson.”

Rebecca wasn't sure she was ready for the kind of lesson he could give her, but she stepped forward anyway.

Immediately, he slipped the rope halter off the mare's head and pushed the dangling straps into her hands.

Gasping, she stared at him. “Jake, I can't do this! I've already told you—”

Before she could finish, he positioned her next to the horse, then situated himself close behind her. Rebecca drew in a sharp breath as the front of his hard body pressed against the back of hers. Heat flooded her senses, raced over her skin to leave every pore puckered with awareness.

She was trying to catch her breath and assure herself that she wasn't going to melt, when he suddenly aligned his arms with hers and slipped her hands into his.

“I'm going to guide you,” he explained in a low voice. “Let's open the halter like this.” With his hands moving
hers, the strands of rope fell into the right position. “Now we're going to put this arm around Starr's neck and this one is going to loop the rope over her nose.”